Tuesday, March 09, 2010

Like a Child Again

As I crossed the steps
To your house
I suddenly felt small,
Like a child again,
Still mystified by a world
Far removed
From simple wonder.

When I was very young,
Each creak of the house
Was like a ghostly presence
Sneaking through dark hallways
Searching for its own
Lost corner.

I learned to bar hop
At the age of five,
Courtesy of my uncle
Who was a legend
From his days as a leather head
(Though I only understood this
Long after he was dead).

Sometimes at my aunt's house
I would sleep in a window's seat
And wake in the morning
With sunlight pressing
Through the frosted glass.